A Game of Thrones: Valar Morghulis
by Living in a Casket
Summary: Yue placed a warm hand gently on the side of her face, but her eyes were steely and cold. The message was clear and the words chilling. "Winter is Coming, Katara. We must all be ready. Valar morghulis." "Valar dohaeris." Katara replied, her path chosen. All men must die. All men must serve. Rated for violence and adult themes. Possible rating change later on. Zutara eventually.
1. Prologue

**Hey guys!**

 **Okay, it's time for another story from me, whether you're ready for it or not. It's a Game of Thrones inspired AtLA Zutara fiction that, I have to admit, I'm really freaking proud of! It's complicated, LONG, and has a lot of twists and turns. All I have to say is BE PATIENT WHERE THE ZUTARA IS CONCERNED _,_ I want to do it properly...they can't meet, fall in love, and live happily ever after in the first five minutes, you know? This IS GoT inspired, after all.**

 **However, the mistakes I've made in the past, I'm going to try and avoid this time. I realised that uploading Abaccus in one go made for a lot of typos, uploading errors, and it didn't allow you guys to interact with me, and my stories, like you should be able to.**

 **So, what I want to do this time is really get you guys involved. I'm going to do what my favourite author (Mrs Pettyfer) did with The Black Games Trilogy (which, by the way, is the greatest Trilogy of all time) and do a characters Q &A, so you can get a better understanding of the OOC's, OC's and Canon Characters' feelings in different situations. So, just review/message me with a question "Katara, how did you feel when -this- happened? What do you think of -this person-" etc. As well as this, I'll answer any questions you have about the previous chapter in the next one I post. Sound helpful? (If it doesn't, wait till the influx of characters gets involved, then you'll have a few questions!)**

 **If you're in this, you're in it for the long haul…I'm considering making it a Trilogy, as I've already mapped out so many things that it might be needed.**

 **I'm going to attempt to update once/twice a week whilst I'm back from University, and really put some effort into this. Now, if you've read GoT then please don't take this too literally, just the basic premise and a few basic little tid-bits have been taken so that I can warp it all together with my mind. This isn't really a crossover. If anything's unclear, please let me know.**

 **As for the language, and the usage of High Valyrian, I will always reveal what is said when you need to know…so don't worry about trying to find out what it means.**

 **Please, let me know what you think, ask me your questions, and enjoy the story!**

 **LivingInACasket**

A Game of Thrones; Valar Morghulis

 _Long ago, the four Kingdom's lived together in harmony; the Kingdom of Fire, the Kingdom of Air, the Kingdom of Earth and the Kingdom of Water. The elements represented their contribution to the world, what they upheld and cared for. A percentage of each population gifted with the talents of the Gods to fulfil their duty. The Kingdom of Fire would ensure the rising and setting of the sun, the day and night of this world. The Kingdom of Air controlled the seasons, the skies their homeland, they oversaw the coming and going of summer, spring, autumn and winter. The Kingdom of Earth cared for the land, the life, the trees and nature, shifting entire continents to restore peace in times of need. The Kingdom of water controlled the life-giving essence of the world; storms quieted, rivers flowing through every corner, the sea life caught to sustain the world. Everything changed when these duties were neglected in a time of consciousness and greed._

 _Fire Lord Azulon called for a time of eternal sun, where his firebenders were at the pique of their strength, seeing no need for his people to ever be shroud in darkness and be weakened. Those who thrived in the moonlight, the Kingdom of Water, were outraged and looked to the Gods for answers. With a failed plea, only silence greeting them, they raged war on the Kingdom of Fire…but the power of the sun was too great, and into a new kind of darkness, they fell._

 _The unbalance of water to the Kingdom of Fire brought on a time of famine, of death and disease. Driven mad with the suffering of his people, Fire Lord Azulon captured members of the Kingdom of Water, enslaving them to funnel fresh water to his kingdom, depriving the Kingdom of Air of their life-giving substance._

 _The Kingdom of Air kept the world in a state of eternal winter, weakening the Kingdom of Fire's sun warriors. The winter caused death to much of the life that the Kingdom of Earth, the largest Kingdom, cared for…and the world entered into a bloody war, staining their Earth red._

 _The Gods turned their back on the Kingdoms, the pain of betrayal too much for them to bear. In this time, the Earth came near to destroying itself, and only one action could bring the world back into control – not harmony, not balance, but control._

 _Fire Lord Azulon harnessed the power of the sun to his firebenders, casting the world into darkness, but his Kingdom into power. Slaying the Kingdom of Air in their beds, the seasons shifted by the remaining airbender to the summer, with a promise of survival, before being slaughtered mercilessly by the Fire Lord himself._

 _The Kingdom of Fire enslaved the world to restore a resemblance of the balance that had once graced the Earth, but the seasons never changed again. The Kingdom of Air had fallen in the massacre. A final parting action from the Gods was the removal of the gifts once given to each Kingdom, of the sun from the firebenders, and the control of the elements, light and dark, was no longer within their power…but the world remained theirs._

 _And so, the world entered an eternal summer…a summer that bought life to the Earth, and its inhabitants, stealing away the ethereal power from the beings upon it. The Earth could sustain itself, but would never be as it once was when harmony was real._


	2. The Markings of High Valyria

Chapter One

Katara ran fingers over her clear skin, thinking of how long she had waited for the Markings of High Valyria. She could almost see how the intricate white swirls would dance across her tanned skin and her lips twitched into a smile at the thought, her glassy azure eyes twinkling in desire and anticipation.

Her brother, Sokka, had received his markings on the eve of his eighteenth birthday – the year of birth that which a boy of the Kingdom of Water is considered a man, and a warrior, and receives their life's goal. The oaths, and the markings, were to be taken under the statues of Tui and La – the Water Gods – to show the faith in the Old Ways.

Glancing away from the smooth skin of her arms, Katara looked into the mirror before her, crafted elegantly at the edges by the ice masons of the Water Kingdom. Her eyes were piercing, and serious, as they should be for someone about to take their markings; it would not a pleasant experience and it signified more than decoration.

The Markings of High Valyria were an ancient tradition, upheld in the Kingdom of Water, to signify their devotion to the Old Ways and the revival of the balance that the world once knew. Cruelty, greed and violence only found purpose in the world that the Kingdom of Fire had created…with it, came hatred. No one could escape such feelings. The markings signified the journey of someone's life from birth until death, but were only administered on the eve of adulthood and added to following each strife, struggle and accomplishment; they marked the passing of innocence, and the need for care, and the arrival of duty and sacrifice. Katara would, today, be sacrificing her beauty and innocence – her unmarked skin – in the name of duty and honour. In ancient times, this would have been the preservation of the four kingdoms with the distribution of water…now, though, it meant so much more.

Her eyes told her what she already knew – that she was _ready_. She had been ready for years, but would respect the Old Gods, and the New, by following tradition. The ceremony was secretive, and she knew not what she would be facing once the doors to the temple closed…it was forbidden to speak of it before, or after, to someone without their own markings. She feared what was to come, and that was natural, the unknown was not something she was accustomed to. It was the one thing that Katara _feared_. However, she pushed those thoughts away, for the world she would live in once she received her markings would not be the one she knew now.

The markings were a sign of adulthood, yes, but the sacrifice of your own whims. Katara would be a slave to duty, whatever hers may be. Serving the Old Gods, and the New, meant that with the vow she took, she was bargaining to give her life for the good of the world. This, she did not fear. She had been putting her life on the line for her people since she was a child.

Katara's head turned slightly to glance over her shoulder at the noise she had heard – the arrival of her brother, Sokka. He gave her a curt nod as he entered and she returned it, signalling that he may stay. With a final glance at her own reflection, she turned to face him. He seemed calm, collected, and his usual heir of humour was decidedly absent. She understood, though, this was not a day for jibes and jokes – this was a day for sacrifice. In his hands, he held a gathering of blue material. She knew this to be her garb for the ceremony.

" _Kirimvose_." She said softly, thanking him for bringing it to her with her familiar, ancient tongue.

As she took the garment, she was surprised to find that it was a long, floor-length dress. Furrowing her brow as she held it up, she heard Sokka laugh gently.

"Expecting something different?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

She was momentarily stunned at seeing such an elegant dress for such a ceremony. Sokka had been dressed in a warrior's garb, complete with war paint and an array of weapons strapped to his back. She could never hope to hide her surprise, or confusion, at being given an evening gown. Certainly, no one could expect her to fight in _this_? Admittedly, she had hoped she would get to wear the cloth of warriors, not something so… _impractical_.

"We all face these challenges in different ways, Katara." He said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. It seemed to weigh more than just that, though.

His hand felt heavy on her and she knew it was because of his knowledge of a situation where she was so blind…she had thought a test of ability would be awaiting her – it would have been foolish not to prepare for any possibility, but this had thrown her. Surely, she should have been happy that whatever was asked of her in the temple could be done in such an elegant gown, but it was not Katara's forte.

She had been a warrior since the age of ten, training with her brother – who was two years older – and matching him in every class. Physical combat was not something that frightened Katara; it was the idea of failure that caused a knot to settle in her stomach. Death did not mean failure to her, no, it was the idea of _failing_ to protect those she had sworn to keep safe. Though she had not yet taken her vows, she had been bound to them since she had picked up her first weapon.

The siblings did not speak as Katara went behind the shoji in the room, stripping her familiar clothes from her body and removing her sarashi from her chest and her undergarments. Even though Katara was aware that nothing but the provided could be taken into the temple, she felt unnaturally exposed with just the thin dress covering her body. Nudity was not uncommon for the ceremony, or so she had heard from the legends, but it seemed inappropriate in the world she lived in now. But she would do what was asked of her – _and so much more_ – in order to take her vows and protect her people.

Stepping out from the screen, her feet bare against the cold ice floor, Katara locked eyes with her brother first. He smiled, flushing a little as he looked down at his feet. She flushed herself when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror once again. The dress was extremely well fitted, hugging her body like a second skin, and was a _sheer_ ocean blue. She crossed her arms over her chest, thankful for the small smattering of hair that protected her most private of areas from view. Her face red, she refused to look at her brother again.

"Come." Sokka said softly. She didn't need to be told twice and moved ahead of him into the corridor.

They walked together in companionable, albeit awkward, silence until they reached the mouth of the temple. The doors were closed, as they always were, but would soon be open for the first time in two years. Looking up at the ominous building that she had never been bid to enter, she forgot about her shame and embarrassment at the garment she was wearing and stared at the intricate swirls and statues decorating the entrance. Ice, so smooth that it looked like polished glass, adorned the edges and was frosted to obscure the view of the inside. The last waterbenders had created the temple as a way of begging for forgiveness, and a sign of respect for the Old Gods before they had passed. It had remained untouched, and untarnished, to this day.

It was so beautiful that Katara felt her eyes well up, but pushed them back when she saw her father approach her from one of the few entrances to the mouth of the temple. She locked eyes with him, their gazes never faltered as he came to her side.

He said nothing as he placed a hand around her shoulders, the warmth of his hands piercing through the thin garment. Despite being within walls of ice, the Palace was never cold…the legend says that the Gods created the Palace and blessed it with magic to keep the first Chieftain and his family safe from the harsh elements of the North. However, in this particularly _thin_ outfit, Katara felt a shudder run up her spine. It could not all be attributed to the temperature, however, as the creaking of the solid ice doors opening caused another shiver to ripple through her.

" _Valar morghulis._ "

Katara heard her father's parting words as his arm slipped from around her. She felt his absence immediately, but this was a journey only she could make. This was a journey she must make alone.

" _Valar dohaeris_." She replied in a whisper as she took her first step forwards, sucking in a deep breath as the mouth of the temple welcomed her inside.

 **Okay, so what are we all thinking so far? If anything is unclear, let me know. The prologue really just set up the setting for the world they live in…four kingdoms, rather than seven, Old Gods and New pertaining to the Gods that turned their back on them and the New that they call to now (Agni for the Kingdom of Fire).**

 **I'll do my first characters Q &A in the A/N for Chapter 3 (not including the Prologue), so get sending and reviewing! **

**LivingInACasket**


	3. Seeing is Believing

Chapter 2

The temple was more beautiful than one person could hope to imagine; it was more beautiful than one person could hope to have enough appreciation for in a lifetime. Tall walls, lined with arches and statues of faces long gone from memory, preserved in ice, greeted her at first. Everything was _so blue_ and _so crisp_ , that she felt as though she were sullying the ground as she walked upon it.

Her eyes were wide, open, and observant, as she continued to step through the temple. It seemed to stretch, wide and long, for as far as the eye could see. Her footfalls echoed around the temple, and it sent another shiver up her spine as she took in more of the grandeur. One would think growing up in an ice palace would lessen the impact made, but something so beautiful could scarcely be imagined.

 _Seeing is believing_.

A noise caught Katara's attention and she froze, her eyes snapping in the direction of the disturbance. She had barely noticed that she had dropped into a fighting stance until the raspy voice informed her of it.

It took a moment for her to remember how to listen, but she caught the end of his words, "…no way to behave in a temple."

She straightened up, placing her hands by her side, and laid eyes on a very weak looking man with skin as crumpled as old leather and bright white hair that reached far down his back, hunched as it was. She furrowed her brow, but managed to remember her manners and bowed lowly to him.

"Apologies, Elder. You startled me." She said evenly, lifting her gaze back from the floor to him…only, he was no longer where she had seen him. He was no longer there _at all_.

Looking around wildly, she could see no sign of the old, weathered man, and it caused a lump of nervousness to rise in her throat. Had she been imagining him? Where had he gone, if not? She cast a second glance behind her, but all that stood there was the entrance to the temple. In order to complete the ceremony, she would have to pass all the way through to the other side.

Shaking her head, trying to clear her thoughts, she pressed on into the depths of the temple. She felt naked, and unprepared, without a single weapon to her name. It seemed too simple that the pathway was a straight one, and it made her suspicious. She kept her eyes all around her, unable to not admire the beauty of the temple a little more. Other than her odd encounter with the man, who may or may not have existed, Katara had seen nothing but an empty, cavernous hallway. She recalled the other men and women who had entered the temple during her time, and some had taken _hours_ to complete the journey. What awaited her here?

Only those or Royal descent, or pure Valyrian blood, could enter the temple and take the markings. Sokka had been the first in over ten years, and the last until herself. Some men and women were not seen again, once they exited the temple with their markings. Did their duty take them to fight away from the homeland?

Her steps a little more purposeful, Katara made her way further and further down the long hallway. At the end, she spotted a door and a feeling of relief settled over her. She moved a little faster, coming face-to-face with it in only moments, but her breathing faltered as she got there. This could not be the end, could it? It seemed all rather simple, and she had learned _nothing_.

 _Only one way to find out…_

She placed her hands on the cool panes of the door and pushed it with some force, managing to make a space big enough to squeeze through. Huffing a little from the squeeze, she looked around her to see where she had landed. Furrowing her brow, she took in the same statues and carvings as before. Whirling around, she saw that the doors she had just walked through looked exactly like those she had entered the temple through.

Shaking her head, she went to test the way back, but the doors slammed before she could reach them. Panic rose in her throat as she whirled around, once again, to face the same hallway she had just been in. She could see the marks of her steamy footprints still tainting the shined floor. Moving with purpose, she set off the same way she had before, as there were no other choices…it was the only way.

On her second trip, she noticed the man standing by one of the statues, inspecting it carefully. She felt a sense of relief and called out to him. He turned to face her, but he did not look pleased. She recoiled slightly when he pointed his staff at her.

"You again!" He growled. His voice was raspy and held an unpleasant tone to it. She backed away slightly, judging what he might do. A man in a temple was no threat alone, but this was a _spiritual_ temple, foretold to be a _magical_ place, and no living being was to reside there under the laws of the last waterbenders.

Stepping back from him as he advanced closer, and faster, than she had expected, she had to catch herself as she fell backwards. Halfway through her fall, she noticed the steps, but failed to cup her head quickly enough. A sharp pain rang through her skull as it connected with the ancient steps and the world went black as pitch.

 **Hey guys! So, that was the second chapter of this story (ignore the numbers on the chapters, it's just how I've saved them on my computer).**

 **Thank you so much, those of you who have reviewed already – it's very entertaining to read what you have to say about my work. I've had a few questions so far, and they're going to be a delight to answer.**

 **I know my grammar isn't perfect, and sometimes I use the wrong word, but I don't have a beta reader to pick up on my little mistakes, as when I read through I have to weed out so many that it's almost painful…any takers?**

 **RR:** _ **"**_ _ **Peak not pique. This is your only warning.**_

 _ **Sincerely**_

 _ **9gag grammar police officer drafted to"**_

 **My sincerest apologies, 9gag Grammar Police. It's my first offence, I swear! Can I go on a grammar awareness course to avoid a harsher sentencing? (I'm now highly aware of my grammatical errors, and it's putting me on edge!)**

 **lawliness:** _ **"Sounds interesting:) i like how detailed your writing is"**_

 **Well, thank you very much! (Kisses and hugs to you!) It warmed me to read this, because I always feel like I waffle too much, or even include too much dialogue at times. Thanks for reviewing and your Katara question will be answered next chapter in the A/N!**


	4. A Crack in the Floor

Chapter 3

Katara shivered against the cold, hard ground. Rolling over slightly, she let out a cough and a steamy breath. Her body ached in a way that made it difficult to sit up, but she was determined to get to her feet. She had not forgotten her purpose in her moment of injury, but it had certainly been an immeasurable amount of time since the world had darkened for her.

Putting a cold hand to her forehead, she rubbed it slightly and managed a kneeling position. Her eyes ached against the light that filled the temple, but she had to find out where she was. Where had she fallen? Where was the old man? Squinting, she looked around.

The same hallway that she had arrived in greeted her and she let out a frustrated cry, the statues and archways looking decidedly less beautiful as her anger built. Shaking her head, she pushed herself up into a standing position and let the dizzy feeling pass before setting off into the temple once again. This time, she was waiting for the man that she knew would be there – it was no chance that he had appeared twice to her.

He cast a glance towards her and her frustrated posture, and a displeased scowl crossed his features.

"Are you done _blemishing_ my home?" He snarled, looking past Katara. She followed his gaze to the crack in the floor where she must have landed. It bought a wince to her face; not only because she remembered how painful the fall had been, but that she had damaged the last waterbenders' temple.

"I-I'm sorry." She said, genuinely sorry for the damage done. She shook her head, looking at the crack. It did not look to compromise the structural integrity of the building, only the aesthetic. "Do you know the way out of here?" She asked, turning to him. Immediately, she wanted to snatch the words back into her mouth and swallow them.

"Be gone! _Be gone from here!_ " He cried angrily, waving his staff at her.

Katara wanted to say that that was all she was trying to do, but the seething – almost murderous – look that he had in his eyes caused her to forget logic and run away from him…for the second time. Thankfully, however, she managed to get away from him the second time without rendering herself unconscious.

Sighing, regaining her breath, Katara looked ahead at the door she had travelled through before…she knew where it would lead, but she had no other option. She had to figure out a new plan, to find a new way…she was not getting anywhere with her current strategy and she definitely did not want to pass the livid old man again.

Lowering herself to the floor, Katara focused on taking the weight off of her freezing feet. She jumped slightly as her bare legs hit the ice, but it gave her toes a break. Shoes would certainly have been a good idea; the cold was beginning to frustrate her, hindering the amount she could think. Perhaps that was the reason for it.

As she settled, she looked around the temple once more to try and find an alternative door, but nothing presented itself immediately. Scouring her mind, she found no alternative routes there, either. She wondered to herself whether she would ever leave the temple, or whether she was destined to spend her entire life there. Was that what had happened to the old man? She furrowed her brow, thinking about it, glancing back the way she had come. She had sat on the ice of a long while, thinking of different routes that simply were not there, and felt her heart sink. What if she never got the chance to take her vows? She had never heard of anyone not coming out the other side, but she could easily have been in the temple longer than anyone ever had been with her moment of unconsciousness.

Her body was cold now, and her breath came out in a thick haze within the room. What had once felt warm and comforting, ice, felt disturbingly cold in comparison now. She rubbed her hands over her arms, feeling the goosebumps there, as she tried to create enough friction for some heat. The skin of her hands was too cool and smooth to get any purchase, and the action only resulted in her feeling colder from her own touch.

Perhaps braving the cold was one of her tasks, as the dress she was wearing offered little to no protection against the biting air. She could feel her legs going numb where they rested on the glass-like floor and heaved her body into a standing position, wrapping her arms around herself as she finally decided she could not sit there any longer. Katara knew what the cold could do to her, if she did not keep her body temperature up, and it seemed silly to damage herself that way unnecessarily – she would have to move and think.

However, as she went to push the doors open to begin the same loop again, guilt settled in her stomach as she thought of the man she had encountered several times now. He was old, and frail, despite having a temper, and seemed to not like her very much…but she knew what she had to do.

For the first time, Katara walked back on herself and headed _back_ through the temple hallway. When she came up behind the old man, she chose not to speak. He seemed to be deep in thought, and she did not want to disturb him – she had come back for a reason, and that was not to pick another fight with this man.

Stepping past him, she locked eyes on the mark she had made in the floor. Down the steps was an alcove that housed a large statue of grand proportions…so grand, in fact, that she was awed to have missed it during her travels of this room. The eyes bore down on her, and she found something familiar in the face of the man. He was young, and strong, large and tall, but his eyes were soft and stern all at the same time. She felt her hand reach forwards and rest on the boot of the carving. Without thinking, she sent him a silent question.

 _Who are you?_

"Jaqen H'gar." The man answered.

Katara whirled around to lock eyes with the man who had so cruelly spoken to her before. She furrowed her brow, opening her mouth, and watched his expression go from one of disinterest to anger. When she stopped herself, and closed it, he went back to disinterest and back to his menial task.

 _What was that all about?_ Katara wondered to herself, running a hand through her hair. _I only opened my mouth–_

"To speak." The man finished her thoughts for her. Her wide eyes landed on him once again. He paid her no mind and handed her a rough rag that looked like it had seen better days.

She wanted to ask what it was for, but he seemed adamant that she work that out for herself. Frustration build in her and his expression turned hostile again. It knocked the fight out of her and he went back to indifference.

 _What is going on?_

"Would it not be wondrous if we could all simply ask for the answers we seek, instead of using our minds to figure it out?" The man said. He seemed unaware that he was speaking and it confused her further.

Why did he seem so murderous whenever she spoke? Why had he handed her this cloth? How did he know what she was thinking? It unnerved her to think that she had entered this temple and perhaps invited in spirits to read her thoughts. She could not be completely certain, but she thought she saw the old man's lips twitch slightly as she thought that.

Looking down at the cloth in her hands, she ran a finger over the rough surface. It grazed her skin almost immediately and she pulled her hand back, keeping an eye on it curiously. Why would it slice into the finger that touched it so gently, yet feel warm and comforting on her other hand, where she held it?

In the corner of her eye, she spotted the crack in the floor and how it had grown with time…was it the weight of the temple causing it to grow worse? Was it too late? She assumed that she was right to return to fix it, and perhaps _that_ was what the rag was for. From personal experience, she knew how hard ice was to sculpt and manipulate, and the rough cloth in her hands seemed more than capable of the job.

Still furrowing her brow, Katara knelt down on her hands and knees, despite the biting cold of the floor, and ran the cloth over the crack in the step. One stroke revealed shavings of ice that fluttered past her as though the wind had taken them. Looking up to the old man, he was getting on with polishing the statue…the statue of Jaqen H'gar.

Going back to her work, Katara found that the crack was shallow and, as she had suspected, an aesthetic blemish. With a few more sweeps of the cloth, it began to disappear. Once she was finished, she looked down at the frosted ice and glared at it – it was not the same as the rest of the step. The step had been tainted by the work; despite not being blemished anymore, the work she had done seemed to make it worse.

Looking up to the man again, he was now closer than she expected and staring intently at what she had done. She opened her mouth to speak, to apologise and ask forgiveness, but stopped herself. Cautiously, she focused on the words very carefully. There was only one way to find out whether her theory was correct.

 _Now what?_ She asked silently.

He looked up to her in that moment and they locked eyes. She jumped back slightly, the intensity startling her. In this foreign place that she thought she might never leave, everything seemed magnified.

"As the winds change, as should the direction in which the tree sways." He said, once again the words not seeming to come from him consciously. She wanted to ask what he meant, but she knew it was futile.

Sitting back on her haunches, she tried to figure out the riddle he had given her. What did the changing winds have to do with the mistake she had made? Would he attack her again if she left? They job was half-done…barely making up for the damage she had caused in the first place.

Looking at the cloth for a moment, it struck her. She looked to the hand she had used to hold the cloth and, as she had suspected from the lack of pain, it was clear of injury. The hand that had not been holding the cloth still held the scrapes on her fingertips. They were red and had long since stopped oozing with blood, but were still damaged.

Picking up the cloth once more, she winced and hissed a little as she held it the other way around, pushing it lightly to the step and running it over once. Her once unblemished hand stung now, but she saw the smoothing of the ice and allowed herself a triumphant twitch of her lips before buffing in circles over the frosted area.

It was a lot more work than getting rid of the crack, but the step eventually blended in with the rest of the floor and Katara's smile was reflected back up at her. She lifted her hand from the cloth and turned it around again, allowing the few final scratches and cuts to be made before attempting to hand it back to the old man.

When she looked up, however, he was gone. She let out a breath, looking more carefully around the room, but he was nowhere to be seen. The room seemed eerily quiet without him, though she had not noticed him leave, and a worried feeling settled upon her.

Placing the cloth to the side, by the statue of Jaqen H'gar, Katara looked down at her damaged hands. They were sore, and some of the cuts were still bleeding, but they would heal. She felt better for preserving the beauty of the temple and found her feet quickly. She spared her work another glance as she used the step, but something stopped her.

On the step were still a few shavings that had not been taken away by the light wind that had carried the others away. Come to think of it, Katara had felt no movement in the air…not at all since she had entered the doors.

The shavings began to move, but in swirls of a force she could not feel around her feet. Her dress stayed perfectly still as they wound around her legs. It frightened her slightly, and she wanted to move, but found herself unable to disturb their graceful dance through the air. Instead, patiently, she waited.

In a flash of movement, they lashed from her legs behind her and she struggled to keep up with their frantic pace. The dance had become more violent, and further reaching, as more and more shavings joined them. Katara stepped back, feeling uneasy at the display. She could feel the wind now, and it bit at her exposed body, despite the thin dress she was wearing.

Forgetting her modesty, since she was alone, she held a hand in front of her face to stop the sharp-coming bits of shaving from getting into her eyes. She felt a few nip and scratch at her skin, but there was no blood that she could see.

More and more white shavings joined the swirl, a shape forming in the middle of what looked to be almost a hurricane. Katara's hair whipped around her face, and her dress fluttered around her legs. She took another step back, but was met by a wall. Sparing a glance, she realised that the steps were gone and she was now faced with a white, shining wall, within a room she had never seen before.

A bright light came from the centre of the hurricane, from the centre of the shape forming, and Katara had to shield her eyes from the intensity of it. The wind upset her balance, and she fell down onto one knee, still covering her face from the shards as they continued to flutter around her violently. She had shut her eyes tightly, the wrinkles that would one day settle there showing for a moment with the strength she put in to holding out the light.

Managing to open her eyes ever so lightly when the light lessened, Katara laid eyes on the figure of a woman floating in the centre of the flurry of ice that had now slowed slightly, though the wind still played with her hair. The breath was taken from her lips when the woman became clearer, and her body began to descend to the floor.

Her skin was snow white, whiter than any skin Katara had ever seen, with a glowing effect around her, as though she were a spirit in human form. The dress she wore draped elegantly from her body, though her arms were bare, showing the markings of High Valyria proudly to the temple. Her hair was as white as her skin, falling straighter than taught cotton strings down her back, unaffected by the settling wind around her. Upon closer inspection, her hair fell nearly to the floor, merging with the whiteness of the adorning capes that fell from either shoulder of her celeste gown.

Katara fell back against the wall, seeing the woman. It was like seeing a God come to life before her and she had no idea how to react. She did not trust her legs to stand and simply watched with wide eyes as the beautiful being before her touched her feet to the ground weightlessly and the ice fell from the air as though at her command.

She could have stayed in that moment for all of eternity and the splendour of the sight before her would never have lessened; never have become _normal_ and _mundane_ to her. Katara knew that her mouth was hanging wide, but she hadn't enough control over her body to close it. Apparently, her dreams of staying unnoticed were dashed as the woman turned her eyes onto Katara.

There was a moment of silence between the two women, and it seemed pregnant with something Katara could not name. Her body was tense as she cowered – without shame – from the being before her. The glow was gone, but the lady before her still seemed regal and ethereal…her striking white hair would be scorched into Katara's memory for the rest of her life. It was no wonder to her now why no one was allowed to speak of the goings-on inside the temple; no one would believe them.

"Katara…" The woman said, her voice washing over her like a sheet of satin. It was so smooth and bell-like that Katara felt envious of her effortless poise and grace. "Do not be afraid." She said, a pucker showing in the woman's forehead where she frowned.

Getting up quickly, though not very gracefully or steadily, Katara kept a hand on the wall as she watched the woman. Would she shout at her if she spoke with her mouth? What was appropriate etiquette? What if she offended this spirit? Was she even a spirit, or was she a God, a deity?

"My, my, you have a brilliantly fast mind." She said, a chuckle falling from her lips. It sounded like bells jingling and caused the hairs on the back of Katara's neck to stand up. This woman, too, did not need verbal communication. She was in her mind.

All of a sudden, Katara felt even more exposed than she had when dealing with the old man in the previous room…despite everything she had ever done being supposedly watched by spirits. It was different when you were directly confronted with one, she had to say in her own defence.

"As for etiquette, it is quite alright to speak. My friend is very stuck in his ways about communication." She said, smiling at Katara as though they were old friends. It seemed almost like a nurturing smile, one that Katara was familiar with from her father and had hazy memories of from her mother. It caused the muscles in her back to relax slightly and she stood a little taller.

Now that she knew she could speak and not suffer the fate of…well, whatever happened to those who offended a spirit, Katara was lost for words. It was not a matter of which question to ask first, for her mind had gone completely blank. She had not taken her eyes off of the woman since she appeared, and it seemed almost dangerous to now…and so, she just kept staring in shock.

"You are not much like your brother." The woman said, warmth to her voice once again as she spoke. Katara felt her body relax a little more with the familiar reference and swallowed to clear her throat. She could stand and stare at this woman all day, but that would not have been the purpose of this meeting.

"W-What was he like?" Katara asked in a small voice. She was ashamed of it, but she was _very_ uneasy about the situation, despite all of this woman's politeness.

Katara had always been a fierce girl, with little or no fear when it came to facing danger…it was the _unknown_ that unsettled her, and Sokka had preyed on it during their childhood. She had _hated_ it, the feeling of fear and the anxiousness that came with it.

"He voiced every question you thought." Said the woman, a fond smile coming to her lips. "As did your father before him."

"And my mother?" Katara whispered without thinking. It was not her place to demand information from such a woman, but it was a sense of _knowing_ that she was drawn to.

"Your mother was a lot like you." She smiled, tilting her head to the side as she looked at the Kingdom of Water Princess before her. "Kya was brave, even in the face of the unknown." She told Katara, the smile reaching all the way to her eyes.

The final tense feeling in her body left her as she watched the woman speak so fondly of her family, and she let her fingers fall from the wall. Picking her posture back up where she had left it upon seeing the old man the first time, she straightened and faced the woman, bowing lowly.

"It is an honour to meet you." She said dutifully. Flattery could do no harm in this situation.

"The honour is all mine." The reply came as a surprise to Katara and she looked up at the white-haired woman in shock, her eyes wide. "Come now, we have much to discuss." She said, holding her hand out gently for Katara.

Unsure of what possessed her to leave the safety of the good distance between them, yet unable to fight the pull, Katara reached forwards and took the white-haired woman's hand. It was soft, and surprisingly warm, and wrapped around Katara's in the same way her father's usually did. It was comforting to feel so safe in the presence of something so… _unknown_.

 **A/N: Hey, guys, this is just a quick upload as I have one foot out the door going to see my nan across the country.**

 **Since I won't be writing for the next 4 days, I figured I'd give you an extra-long one. I'm sorry but I can't do the character Q &A this time, but definitely next chapter…and, to be honest, there weren't really enough questions to answer…there's a little incentive for you! **

**Hope you like this chapter, I really enjoyed writing it…let me know!**

 **LivingInACasket**


	5. Tui and La

Chapter Four

"You are a skilled fighter, I see. Though, I have seen you before…in Sokka's memories. You were still young then." The woman, who had introduced herself as Yue, told her. It was a new level of comfort that Katara felt, knowing that this spirit had a name. Though, Yue had not explained how she came to be or exactly _what_ she was.

It also made her slightly uncomfortable, still, that her mind was not her own and her thoughts were not safe. What if she thought of something that offended Yue and she fell into disgrace? What if she was not worthy?

"You bared your body with little argument; for it was what you had always believed was required of you. Why is opening your mind different?" Yue asked suddenly, breaking the silence they had been walking in for a short while.

They had now entered a large chamber with the most impressive ice carvings Katara had ever seen…it was of two koi fish intertwining in the most intimate, yet separate of ways. None of the two sculptures touched, yet they seemed to be carved from the same large block of ice. It was magnificent to see, and Katara assumed that _this_ was the monument of Tui and La, the Old Gods.

Realising that Yue had asked her a question, Katara flushed and hung her head. She could only answer honestly, Yue would see if she lied…and that was what bothered her about it. In the real world, Katara could spare feeling and tell people what they wanted to hear – in this world, she was laid bare and there would be no sparing the world.

"It is more intimate; my thoughts are the only thing that are mine." She explained to Yue, biting her lip slightly. She heard the same bell-like laugh from the woman and it made her stomach knot.

"I see you logically process everything before speaking…an admiral trait for a hopeful Faceless Man." She said softly, running a hand down Katara's arm and smiling at her.

"Pardon?" Katara asked.

She was under the impression that she was going receive her Markings of High Valyria today…she had never heard of this 'Faceless Man' and it unnerved her. Was all not as it seemed before entering the temple? Of course it wasn't, she had never expected what had transpired and could never have prepared for it…and it made her heart beat slightly faster.

"You _must_ let go of your fear of the unknown, Katara."

"You know I cannot." Katara replied quickly. It was futile to explain it when Yue most likely knew everything about her from her mind…though she did not seem affected by the way she had lived her life so far, or the thoughts she had had. It seemed as though she could heed her own advice, for Yue knew her argument and had still told her what she had to do.

"To be a Faceless Man, you must become what _you_ fear. You shall _be_ the unknown." Yue's voice sounded serious all of a sudden and Katara's feelings shifted. She had been beginning to relax within the company of this woman, but it seemed it was not to last.

The two women stopped walking and Katara was let go from Yue's grasp. Standing a little firmer on her feet, a little more accustomed to the situation, Katara readied herself. Yue's large blue eyes watched her every movement, but she was not nervous anymore. She _wanted_ to understand, she _wanted_ to conquer her nerves – and her fear – so that she could be the best protector she could be. She wanted her people to feel _safe_ with her.

"What is a _Faceless_ _Man_?" Katara asked, arching her eyebrow. Yue would have heard her thoughts, her vow to herself, but she would not have heard her questioning in that moment. The element of surprise was out, but it did not stop Katara from trying. This was not a game, this was the most monumental moment of her short life so far…and she would reap it for _all_ she could, all of the _knowledge_ that she could.

Yue smiled in response and confused Katara as she walked towards the sculpture of Tui and La. She ran her hands just above the ice, not touching it, but the moment seemed very intimate…as though she yearned for something she could not have. It did not escape Katara's notice, but she held off her questioning for a later time.

"A Faceless Man is just that, Katara." Yue said, her attention shifting from the sculpture back to Katara. Her gaze was meaningful, her strides and movements were all calculated and elegant – Yue had been doing this a long time, though she seemed not to tire of the same words. "You said that your thoughts were your own…yet personal ownership has no place amongst the Faceless Men, Katara. This is your first experience of it. Play your part, assume your roles, and conduct them flawlessly convincingly…but do not mistake it for the _person_ _you_ _are_. Men have risen to be kings and beggars in the same moment, for that is the way of the Faceless Men." She said, finishing with a smile.

 _Very clear._ Katara thought with a slight edge to her tone. She knew Yue could hear her and the laugh following reassured her that it had not been missed.

"The Faceless Men are the protectors of the Kingdoms and the people within them, of the balance of the world. Little progress has been made as of late, but the Faceless Men strive on, _fight_ _on_ for the world that this Earth once knew." She said, her explanation hitting home. Katara had thought of something very similar not but a few hours ago.

Katara wanted to restore the world to the Old Ways, when death had no place for sorrow, only joy that the work was done and a meeting with the Gods was the reward. Suffering, anger, hatred, murder and cruelty had blinded the world, those who did not still follow the Old Gods. The Faceless Men seemed to play a part of achieving this want of hers and it intrigued her further.

"How do the Faceless Men do it?" Katara asked. It was a perfectly warranted question, and Yue seemed to nod approvingly at the inquisition.

"They exist across the world, in every Kingdom and every dark corner, with many lives and many faces. A king may speak to the loyal citizens, but only the lowly market seller may know the words that which they wish to hear." Yue told her. "Yet, they are not their roles. They are the Faceless Men…as you will be."

How could someone be faceless? Every man, woman and child was born with a face and that was their lot…how could no one recognise the king they served in the market place? It seemed impossible. Aside from that, another thought dug at the back of Katara's mind, and she could not stop herself from asking.

"And what am I?" Katara asked. Who was she if not her roles? Surely, she would always be Princess Katara of the Kingdom of Water?

"A Faceless Man. A being upon this Earth who is a silent watcher over others, from all of the lives which you lead." Yue told her.

"To protect my people, right? That is our purpose, _my_ purpose?"

"To protect _all_ people, Katara." Yue said, eyeing her with a little fierceness. It took Katara back. "The Faceless Men choose no sides. Your bitterness and hatred hold no place in the heart of a Faceless Man." She said, her voice stern. Katara wanted to argue that she had reasons for her bitterness, reasons to hate the people she did…as did anyone else, but she thought better of it.

"They prevent meaningless death by sacrificing their own souls…to take another's life, to live as them, is to split one's soul in half. You will never enter the Spirit World should you take a life and live it as your own, Katara… _that_ is the price paid to be Faceless Men." Yue said.

"Is that how it works?" Katara asked, entranced. It made sense, but it seemed barbaric. Killing was one thing, but to kill solely to gain an identity seemed…soul splitting. Realisation dawned on Katara and she bowed her head in acceptance, yet listened to Yue explain.

"Their soul must be destined for Valor, Katara." Yue said, going on to explain what she meant. "An innocent cannot have their life taken by the Faceless Men, do you understand? A soul must already be broken to be stolen."

"My soul will be able to be stolen."

" _Broken_ , not halved." Yue clarified.

So, another Faceless Man could not kill Katara; that was at least _something_ in her favour. In order for her to take on the identity of someone else, they had to already be a killer, a monster who had taken an innocent's life. Splitting her soul by becoming them, tainting her soul, would prevent her passage into the Spirit World.

"Sokka…my father…" Katara murmured.

"The choice is made by those who own the soul, Katara. You cannot change this." Yue said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Innocents are spared, _protected_ , by those who remove the poison from the Earth. The gifts with this burden only come to those deserving, and true to their vows – it is not a given."

Katara's attention piqued at this. What _gifts_? She furrowed her brow, wanting to ask, but feeling deep inside her that perhaps even Yue did not know. A glance to her face confirmed her suspicions.

"The Spirit World and Valor are not the only places for souls to travel, Katara, I know that much." Yue said. It lightened the load of the decision greatly, though she still stood with a heavy heart. Perhaps her soul would have somewhere to rest, with her father, mother and brother…just not in the Spirit World with the innocents.

Sokka and her father had already made their decisions, and with a Kingdom already housing at least two – within the Royal Family – it seemed as though there was poison in her own homeland that she had been shielded from. A squeeze of her shoulder from Yue confirmed it and she let her shoulders sag slightly with the weight of the information.

She had no idea that the temple would be so emotionally demanding, and she felt weak at the knees from doing so little…not now, but in the past. Her brother had been a Faceless Man for two years now – playing the part of her brother.

"The roles are as real with feeling, and love, as the individual may decide. It is simply divided between the different lives one leads." Yue told her, offering as much comfort to Katara's dark thoughts as she could.

It did made her feel better to think that he was still as much her brother as he had been before the temple, and that she would still be his sister when she left. She would still be Princess Katara of the Kingdom of Water…but she would also be countless other people. It all depended on where the poison fell, as she had gathered from Yue's words.

"I'm not staying here, am I?" Katara asked, not looking up from the floor. She did not mean the temple, she _knew_ she would be leaving there…but Yue knew what she had meant.

"You will always be the Princess of the North, but this will not be your only face." Yue said, repeating the conclusion that Katara had come to as fact. " _The_ _world_ needs your protection, yes, and you will do everything within your power to protect the innocent." Yue said, lifting Katara's chin with her gentle fingers to look into her eyes. "But this land has its watchers…the Kingdom of Fire calls for your devotion now." She tells her.

With that, Katara's entire world crashed around her. Her entire life, she had thought that the journey through the temple would brand her a warrior, an adult, a grown being, and warrant her ability to fight. Fight for her homeland. Fight against the cruelty of the Kingdom of Fire; not _help_ them! How could that restore balance to the world? How could any of their people be innocent when their armies, to keep the world subservient, slaughtered child after child, man after man and woman after woman? To keep the _illusion_ of peace that the Devil himself fabricated when he plunged the world into eternal darkness!

"I cannot! They're…they…"

"The rising and setting of the sun; the day and night of this world." Yue said sternly. "To forget their place before the Fall of Men would be careless." She told Katara eyeing her carefully. "Change is coming."

Katara looked up from the interesting spot on the floor that she had busied herself with, running her hands up her still-bare arms. Yue placed a warm hand gently on the side of her face, but her eyes were steely and cold. The message was clear and the words chilling.

"Winter is Coming, Katara. We must _all_ be ready. _Valar morghulis_."

" _Valar dohaeris_." Katara replied, her path chosen.

 **Hey guys! I had an awesome time visiting my family...and I got a few visions for scenes to put into this story. Being beside the sea with all of that fresh air can do that for a girl!**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter because it was really difficult to write - I'm not so wise myself, so speaking in proverbs is really difficult for me. Also, I kind of wanted to introduce you to my version of Katara when confronted with an issue that goes against all of her previous intentions...I liked the intensity of Katara when she looked for the man who killed her mother, so I try and base it around there.**

 **Guest: "Quite** _ **like this, can't wait for the next chapter! Your sentences flow together nicely and Katara is written great."**_

 **Well, thank you very much! I've literally only just started with Katara...I'm not so good at staying in character, because Katara's preachy nature usually grinds on me, but this story actually kind of calls for it. Thanks for the review!**

 **Character Q &A:**

 **"Katara, how do you feel about the Fire Kingdom?" - Its people are destructive and dangerous. They took my mother from me under the veil of peace...what innocence could reside there?**

 **"Sokka, what was it like seeing your sister naked?" - I try not to think about it. Not that she's ugly or no one should ever want to marry her - not me, of course, that's gross...just...someone...ugh, I'm going to go and throw my boomerang around a bit. No more questions, you perverts.**


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